


(...denial...)

by josephina_x



Series: The Triangle Guy [5]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: ...Or is he?, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Bill isn’t Bill, Depression, Gen, Identity Issues, One Year Later, Post-Series, Post-Weirdmageddon, See You Next Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 10:22:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13188090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josephina_x/pseuds/josephina_x
Summary: Stanley leaves again, this time for good. Sixer doesn’t understand why. And a triangle is caught in the middle of something that he’d had no way of knowing he might ever need to circumvent.





	(...denial...)

**Author's Note:**

> Fic: (...denial…)  
> Fandom: Gravity Falls  
> Pairing: n/a  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Spoilers: through the end of the series, and some of the books (Journal #3)  
> Summary: Stanley leaves again, this time for good. Sixer doesn’t understand why. And a triangle is caught in the middle of something that he’d had no way of knowing he might ever need to circumvent.  
> Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit.  
> AN: FYI, I’m deliberately leaving out a key piece of information here, because of character POV. This will make even more sense later on. Mea culpa in advance, you poor readers you.

\---

“He left.”

The words were slurred, but they cut through the grey, at least a little. He came back to himself a little, then wished he hadn’t. Lying face down in a cage on top of a chalk circle that was never, ever going away.

...Did he even care about Sixer slurring at him? He wasn’t entirely sure. Was there something important about Sixer slurring? He forced himself to try and remember what that could mean.

Slurring meant… Sixer had been drinking, probably.

...No, definitely. Hot belgian waffles, he could feel the alcohol fumes from where he lay in the bottom of his cage, sweeping across the area of his completely exposed back-face, and Sixer wasn’t even trying to breathe on him.

He heard footsteps getting closer, stumbling, then the creak of a chair. The sound of Sixer sitting down next to him. Well, that was new. ...-ish.

“He left. He _left_.” He heard a hiccup. “He didn’t want to _stay_.”

Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Why didn’t he want to stay?” Sixer’s voice broke on the last word. “We… we went _sailing_ together. We did that _before_. I… I don’t know what I did _wrong_ this time,” Sixer said desperately. “I couldn’t get him to remember the boat, or this summer, but that shouldn’t have mattered. _Why did he leave._ ”

He heard the slosh of liquid in a bottle. He heard a broken sob.

“ _How did you **know?**_ ”

...Well, that was the stupidest question he’d ever heard. How was he supposed to know _what?_ He didn’t know anything. He was stupid, and useless, just like everyone had always said. Somebody had to scrape the barnacles off the sides of the stores on the pier.

He couldn’t even build up the energy to try and take over the world like he was supposed to.

He was Bill Cipher, and he thought he was Stanley Pines.

How screwed up was he? How broken?

_...Very._

And Sixer was asking questions of _him?_ He wasn’t anybody’s muse, or magic 8-ball.

He couldn’t help anyone, least of all Sixer. He couldn’t even summon the energy to float properly, to try and get out of this all-encompassing fog.

So the real Stanley Pines didn’t want to stick around. Well, boo hoo.

He was here, and he would give _anything_ to be Stan Pines. To stay here, with Sixer. To go sailing with Sixer again. But did Sixer care? No.

He lay in the bottom of his cage, and didn’t even try to say a word. Because what good would it do to even offer, anyway? Because he wasn’t what Sixer wanted, was he? Sixer didn’t want him; Sixer wanted _Stanley Pines_. If Sixer asked, he would say yes. But that didn’t matter, because if _he_ asked, Sixer would say no, and Sixer wouldn’t ask _him_.

Sixer wouldn’t even think to ask. And Sixer didn’t ask.

What Sixer did was thump his head down on the desk surface next to him and pass out.

And when Sixer woke up again, he’d screamed at Bill a bit more, and then shoved him in his cage up onto a high shelf. Tossed a towel over his cage so nobody would have to look at him, and…

Forgot about him.

Time passed.

\---


End file.
